price, that I should again be in the arms of my husband? Can
I degrade myself to a lie?--not for life, or liberty, or even for my
Philip."

"Amine Vanderdecken, if you will confess your crime before you are
accused, you will have done much; after your accusation has been made,
it will be of little avail."

"It will not be done, either before or after, father. What I have done
I have done, but a crime it is not to me and mine--with you it may be,
but I am not of yours."

"Recollect also that you peril your husband, for having wedded with a
sorceress. Forget not; to-morrow I will see you again."

"My mind is troubled," replied Amine. "Leave me, father, it will be a
kindness."

Father Mathias quitted the cell, pleased with the last words of Amine.
The idea of her husband's danger seemed to have startled her.

Amine threw herself down on the mattress in the corner of the cell, and
hid her face.

"Burnt alive!" exclaimed she after a time, sitting up and passing her
hands over her forehead. "Burnt alive! and these are Christians. This,
then was the cruel death foretold by that creature, Schriften--
foretold--yes, and therefore must be--it is my destiny--I cannot save
myself. If I confess then, I confess that Philip is wedded to a
sorceress, and he will be punished too. No, never--never; I can suffer;
'tis cruel--'tis horrible to think of,--but 'twill soon be over. God of
my fathers, give me strength against these wicked men, and enable me to
hear all, for my dear Philip's sake."

The next evening, Father Mathias again made his appearance. He found
Amine calm and collected: she refused to listen to his advice or follow
his injunctions. His last observation, that "her husband would be in
peril if she was found guilty of sorcery," had steeled her heart, and
she had determined that neither torture nor the stake should make her
confess the act. The priest left the cell, sick at heart; he now felt
miserable at the idea of Amine's perishing by so dreadful a death;
accused himself of precipitation, and wished that he had never seen
Amine, whose constancy and courage, although in error, excited his
admiration and his pity. And then he thought of Philip, who had treated
him so kindly--how could he meet him? And if he asked for his wife,
what answer could he give?

Another fortnight passed, when Amine was again summoned to the Hall of
Judgment, and again asked if she confessed her crimes. Upon her
refusal, th